


Eye of the Beholder

by siderealSandman



Series: Winging It [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Excessive Weabooing, F/F, F/M, Freewriting, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Origin Story, Peacock!Alya - Freeform, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post Akuma PTSD, Sailor Moon as a Central Plot Point, Superhero Partnerships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderealSandman/pseuds/siderealSandman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a brisk summer evening when Alya first kissed her best friend full on the mouth. Less than three months later, her lips found themselves pressed against those of her best friend's former crush. At the time, she didn't know it was Marinette and Adrien she was kissing but then again she supposed the masks the three of them wore might have had something to do with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enter the Peacock! Alya's Miraculous Transformation!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alya becomes #fabulous and takes her first leap of faith

It was a brisk summer evening when Alya first kissed her best friend full on the mouth.

 

At the time, Alya didn’t know it was Marinette’s cherry lip gloss that lingered on her lips after each kiss; didn’t know that Marinette’s gloved fingers threaded through hers. She didn’t know anything beyond the fact that the only sound she could hear against the dim din of the city was the sound of Ladybug’s shallow breathing. They were each so afraid to break contact; afraid that the tentative trio they spent the last six months building might fall apart. Alya was partly afraid that the rage from the Ladynoir fans would create a legion of akuma that would swallow Paris whole but not afraid enough to pull back. The warm light of the setting sun and the warm pressure against her lips were indistinguishable and she didn’t want to go without either just yet. If she had known it was Marinette she might not have stopped. If she had known that this would only be the first of many kisses, she might not have been so reluctant to pull away.

 

And if she had known that in two months’ time she would find herself kissing the stunned, heartbroken, wide eyed Adrien Agreste lingering on the edge of the rooftop a few yards away she might not have felt her stomach drop as her eyes opened to see him standing there.

 

But perhaps some context is in order.

 

* * *

 

It all started six months earlier with a driver who wasn’t looking where they were going.

 

Alya had grown up in the city all her life which meant she was as good at dodging traffic as a world champion Frogger player. Living in Paris meant that you had to deal with drivers who were just flat out not paying attention to anything other than the ~sights~. If she had a euro for every time she was nearly flattened by a tourist bus/car/Segway she would be rich enough to work on the Ladyblog fulltime instead of going to school.

 

She was half tempted to get hit, just a little bit, so the lawsuit could pay for a new laptop.

 

But not everyone was so nimble and by the time Alya looked up from the magazine to see the cart barreling towards the old man about to hobble across the sidewalk she knew he was done for.

 

She didn’t know why she rose with such speed, barreling across the street and snagging him by the arm before he could step off the curb into traffic. When pressed by her sisters who had heard the news thirdhand from a neighbor’s daughter’s friend, Alya couldn’t explain why she suddenly had the urge to play superhero; just that if she didn’t no one else would. Between Akuma attacks and an increase in theft (including something from the Agreste manor) Alya supposed Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t be the only ones reaching out to help others.

 

So she did what she could lacking superpowers of her own.

 

If only her life were still that simple.

 

Alya hadn’t given the old man in the floral red shirt a second thought after dusting him off and sending him on his way. She had sisters to babysit while their mother was at work so it wasn’t until later that evening that she realized she had one more accessory than she usually had. She was rummaging around for her calculator when she noticed that a small, dark blue box was tucked between her chemistry homework and her tablet; velvety and unlike anything Alya owned herself. But before she could investigate, the sound of breaking china and her sister Michelle’s giggling dragged her down the stairs in a frantic sprint.

 

And when she returned, a fairy was critiquing her wardrobe.

 

* * *

 

“Drab…drab…boring…ooh _another_ plaid button up shirt! How _refreshing!_ ”

 

The blue and purple creature turned around as the door slammed behind them, raising an eyebrow at the gaping, blinking, stammering girl who entered.

 

“Oh…it’s you.” They looked Alya up and down, circling around the girl clutching a rolling pin in her hands as she swiveled, not wanting to take her eyes off it.

 

“Wh…what the-” Alya yelped as the _thing_ tugged a lock of hair, forcing her to look forward and hold still as the creature inspected her.

 

“Hold still,” the figure huffed, floating up to look Alya in the eye as a thousand different questions ran through her mind. The dark blue sprite appeared to have feathers trailing down from their back and sprouting up out of their head. It looked like a peacock plushie had risen to life from a local toy store and floated all the way over to her house just to critique her wardrobe. A glance at the open velvet box on her bed revealed a seemingly dull silver fan shaped brooch or belt buckle but before she could inspect it, her attention was once again drawn to the tsking creature floating before her.

 

“No no _no_ this simply _will_ not _do_ at all,” the floating creature sighed, chin resting on the palm of its hand (paw? claw?) as Alya wondered if she had time to get her phone out and snap a picture of what had to be the tiniest cryptid in the known universe. “I thought that Athenian boy was drab with that beige sackcloth he called a tunic but this is…I-I don’t even know _what_ this is, darling.”

 

“I…” Alya’s confusion quickly gave way to indignation as she realized her wardrobe was being criticized by a floating Beanie Baby. “I’m sorry this is _rich_ coming from a…a…”

 

“Kwami,” the kwami supplied.

 

“Right… _rich_ coming from a kwani-”

 

“ _Kwami_ ,” the little peacock repeated, rolling their eyes.

 

“-that’s apparently wearing _nothing!_ ” Alya huffed, crossing her arms to glare at the little creature.

 

“That’s because it would be a crime against the divine to cover such _exceptional_ plumage by anything so _drab_ as mortal cloth,” the ~~kwadi~~ kwami huffed, running a hand through their scant head feathers with a smug self-satisfied smirk plastered on their face.

 

“What _plumage?_ ” Alya snorted, flicking the scant feathers on the creature’s head, snickering at the horrified squawk that slipped from their throat as they zipped over to the mirror on the wall to frantically smooth it back into place.

 

“I-I _wouldn’t_ expect a…a… _lumberjack_ like you to understand true beauty!” The kwami snapped.

 

“Ooh _burn_ ,” Alya snorted, dropping the rolling pin on her bed. Though she didn’t fully trust the creature, she doubted it was capable of hurting anything other than her feelings. And if it was…well that’s what jam jars were for. “So are you here to just sneer at my wardrobe or did you actually want something Mister…Miss…Mrs-”

 

“Pfaau,” the kwami said, turning around and offering Alya a small curtsey. “At your service…regrettably.”

 

“So you’re like a…what, alien or something?” Alya said, casting about the room for her audio recorder. If she _had_ been visited by extra-terrestrials from another galaxy, she was sure as hell going to be the one to break the story. “You don’t _look_ like a guardian angel or anything but then again I haven’t seen enough to know.”

 

“I already _told_ you I was a _kwami_ , lumberjack girl,” Pfaau sniffed.

 

“Yeah that means…literally nothing to me,” Alya said, flicking on her computer to take notes. “You want to fill me in as to who you are and where you came from…and how you got into my room?”

 

“Excellent question _thief,_ ” Pfaau sneered down at her.

 

“Okay _one_ you are the rudest kwami I have ever met,” Alya said, placing her usb keyboard on her lap and spinning around to face the creature.

 

“I am the _only_ kwami you have ever met,” Pfaau sighed, rolling their eyes.

 

“Two, I’m pretty sure if I had stolen a peacock I would have _remembered_ it,” Alya said, fingers clattering away on her keyboard as she talked.

 

“So you just _happened_ upon my brooch lying in the gutter somewhere?” Pfaau snorted derisively. “What kind of blithering idiot do you take me for?”

 

Alya stopped typing, crossing one leg and balancing the keyboard on her calf. “Would you like the honest answer?”

 

Pfaau did their very best to look indignant but it was hard to be intimidating when you could comfortably fit inside a make up case with room to stretch out.

 

“Look I don’t know where you came from or if you have an…owner or something,” Alya said, ignoring the indignant squawk. “But if you need me to return…whatever you are to wherever you’re from then-”

 

“Well that’s just the _pill_ of it,” Pfaau huffed, looking as though they would rather eat glass than say what they were going to say. “As it happens you…oh gods I’m going to be sick… _you_ are _apparently_ my new chosen.”

 

The keyboard slipped off Alya’s leg into her lap. “Say what now?”

 

“Believe me, no one is more disappointed than I am,” Pfaau sighed, shuddering as they looked at the open closet. “To go from the heights of beauty attainable by human fashion to-”

 

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Alya said, holding her hand up. “Chosen for…what exactly?”

 

“Oh dear what was the spiel I was supposed to say…” Pfaau sighed, tapping their chin. “Something something…great evil…something something…champion of love and justice…something something…become a Miraculous user-”

 

“You want to start making sense sometime soon?” Alya said, setting her keyboard aside and standing up.

 

“Well if I’m here that means something’s gone _terribly_ wrong,” Pfaau said. “Being a Miraculous wielder isn’t a peacetime career path so there must be some kind of magical mayhem plaguing your sad excuse for a society-”

 

“Yeah there’s all kinds of freaky butterflies flapping around turning people into brainwashed slaves,” Alya said, pivoting around to open the Ladyblog. Pfaau floated over her shoulder as she opened the Known Akuma Victims page, quickly scrolling past a picture of an eggplant colored super villain that made her skin prickle every time she looked at it.

 

“Oh dear.” Pfaau frowned at the butterfly shaped sigil on the screen. “This is…worse than I thought…”

 

“So what are you supposed to do about it?” Alya asked.

 

“Ideally I’d like to go back to sleep and hope the world doesn’t end while this mess sorts itself out,” Pfaau sighed, pinching their nose. “But that doesn’t seem to be an option. I’m afraid your life is about to go downhill and _someone’s_ apparently cut the brake line because you see _I’m_ not going to do anything about it-”

 

“The people of Paris thank you for your service,” Alya sniffed.

 

“- _you_ are,” Pfaau finished as Alya blinked slowly up at the peacock.

 

“…you sure you don’t want to at least give it a shot?” Alya said, standing up from her chair. “Look I’m _flattered_ that you like…chose me or whatever-”

 

“ _I_ didn’t choose you,” Pfaau sniffed. “Believe me, I might have picked someone with a little more natural style if it were up to me. My pin chose you.”

 

Pfaau nodded towards the bed where a silver fan shaped pin splayed out beside the open box. Alya’s fingers ran over the cool, delicate looking piece of metal with a curious expression, fingertips tingling as she did. She was a person who favored practicality over panache but something about the accessory screamed _her_. Alya may not have known how the pin had come into her possession but it was _hers_. That much she knew for sure. What it meant, she couldn’t begin to explain but she found herself clipping the brooch to her belt experimentally, ignoring the whine from Pfaau behind her.

 

“You’re wearing it _wrong_ ,” Pfaau mumbled.

 

“I thought it was mine,” Alya said, adjusting her glasses to turn and face the kwami. “Besides, how exactly is a _pin_ supposed to do anything? I’m not Ladybug; I’m not a superhero or anything!”

 

“First of all…it’s a _brooch_ ,” Pfaau said insistently, lips twitching into a smug smile. “Secondly, why do you think Ladybug is _Ladybug_?”

* * *

 

The sound coming from Alya’s mouth wasn’t human. It wasn’t even animal; at best it could be described as somewhere between an airhorn and helium escaping a tiny crack in a balloon. She barely recognized the girl staring back at her, eyes wide and mouth frozen in a smile reserved for children on Christmas and victims of The Joker.

 

The teal blue half mask she wore looked ready for Carnival but surprisingly, the mask was the most understated part of the costume. Her hair was somehow pulled up into a short ponytail in the back, tips changing from their usual red to a dark shade of blue as a peacock feather hairpiece held it together. A dark blue half-cape hung around her shoulders secured at her throat with the now green and blue peacock pin. It was styled like the feathers of a peacock and ended mid thigh above the tops of high green boots that seemed to melt into her costume. Matching green gloves backed with the peacock eye reached past the elbow of a blue form fitting suit that seemed to shimmer and shift subtly in the dim light of her bedroom.

 

The term _fabulous_ never had meaning for Alya until she parted the cape over her shoulders, hand reaching out and touching the clasp at her throat almost reverently. She didn’t notice at the time but she stood up straighter, looked surer of herself as she stood there in all her green and blue glory. But it wasn’t that surprising when she thought about it later. Alya had lassoed her younger sisters pretending to be Wonder Woman, collected every back issue of Captain Marvel she could get her hands on, and ran _the_ premiere Ladybug (and Chat Noir) appreciation blog.

 

So needless to say, she was just a little bit _ecstatic_ to be standing in front of the mirror in her _very_ own supersuit; cape and all…a superhero cape…a cape superheroes wore when superheroing…a _fucking_ superhero cape that was hers and shiny and cool and mysterious and…

 

And she was a mother _fucking_ superhero now…or a potential superhero at any rate. She hadn’t exactly done anything exceptionally superheroic in the last three minutes (unless squealing and bouncing up and down in front of a mirror counted as heroism). Pfaau had outlined some of the more fundamental concepts of superheroing to her but they hadn’t accounted for the _rush_ that came from being suddenly endowed with mythical abilities. She felt lighter and stronger than she had ever felt in her life, each bounding bounce nearly taking her to the ceiling of her attic room, cape fluttering on her way down.

 

“You know I _think_ I misjudged you, my fine feathered friend,” Alya said, turning in place to see the costume from behind. “I think you and I are going to get along very-”

 

Her phone buzzed rapidly on the desk behind her, a sign that her Twitter feed was blowing up as it usually did when Ladybug shenanigans were afoot. Her stomach dropped unconsciously as she floated (almost literally) over to the television and turned on the news. There, in the Luxembourg Gardens, live footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir battling a thorny, plant based akuma in front of a crowd of spectators.

 

Her first instinct was to run down there with a camera to shoot footage for the blog…then she remembered that _technically_ she was on a different kind of call.

 

“So much for a learning curve,” Alya sighed, glancing at her reflection again. She felt a little sillier looking at her blue and green feathered self, wondering if she shouldn’t just sit the first fight out. Wait until she had some semblance of confidence in her own abilities. She didn’t even have a weapon…unless she could somehow stab the akuma with her hair pin.

 

Alya reached up to take the fan pin off when a pair of heavy, silvery objects fell into her hands. Two foot-and-a-half long steel fans rested in the palms of her hands, heavy enough to hurt someone but still manageable in Alya’s hands.

 

“Oh good,” Alya snorted, opening a fan to reveal a peacock pattern on the inside. “Maybe I can fan the akuma to death…”

 

She flicked the fan, intending to blow a tissue paper off her desk when a gust of wind ripped through the room, knocking her chair across the room and blowing her computer, TV, and sound system onto her bed in a tangle of screens and chords.

 

Alya blinked, looking down at the fan she now held at arm’s length. “…maybe I _can_ fan the akuma to death.”

 

Alya had no idea what she was capable of but had watched enough anime to know that Ladybug and Chat Noir were not going to do well against the thorny, vine-akuma. Whatever assistance she might be able to lend them…well it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?

 

Alya padded over to her windowsill, pushing the window open and staring out onto the crowded street below. Outside, she could vaguely see the writhing mass of vines, flowers, and leaves in the distance, illuminated by police searchlights and circled by helicopters. Alya may have been a superhero for exactly twenty minutes…but this was still her home. And she would be damned if a Poison Ivy fanboy made mulch out of it. Hesitantly, she placed a boot on the windowsill, standing up as the night breeze ruffled her cape. She spread her arms, feathery cape catching the breeze and stiffening out to form workable wings. She might not have been ready…but she had to take a leap of faith.

 

So she leapt…and fell three stories into the dumpster below, crashing through a pile of recently tossed fruit from the grocer across the street.

 

“Note to self,” Alya muttered, hauling herself out of the dumpster. “Wings are _not_ self propelled…”


	2. A New Hero?! Her name is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alya ruins a little shojo girl's day, flirts with two superheroes with varying degrees of success, and names herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important to note that this story is post-Volpina. Very important to note.

 “Is it just me…or is the threshold for akumitization getting kind of low?”

 

“I think if I was a biology student whose professor knocked over a pot containing the ancient remains of a prehistoric vine that I had been painstakingly cultivating for months as part of my thesis, I would be upset too.”

 

“So you’re saying she’s doing all this…for the vine?”

 

It was amazing that Chat Noir could still manage a shit eating grin dangling over a giant pitcher plant’s churning digestive fluid. Slowly, Ladybug turned to face her partner, fighting the vines restraining her so she could properly glower at him.

 

“If we live through this,” Ladybug said, taking a deep breath through her nose. “I am going to _actually_ kill you for that.”

 

“Come on; that was a little funny,” Chat sniggered.

 

“ _We are going to die, Chat!_ ” Ladybug cried, struggling to reach her yo-yo as the vines tightened around her arms, shoulders, and chest. “Does the fact that a deranged biology student-”

 

“POST GRADUATE!” Chlorokill screeched from below, tossing a thorn from her hand and turning a passing car into a rose bush. The tall, bark-skinned woman looked as though she had been carved from a tree complete with flowing tresses of moss-like hair and strong vines for fingers and joints. Getting lured into the botanical gardens was a mistake, Ladybug realized; one that she and her partner might not live to regret.

 

“Does the fact that a deranged _post grad_ -”

 

“Thank you!”

 

“-is trying to murder us with plant juice mean _nothing_ to you?!”

 

“Something will come up,” Chat shrugged. “Always does.”

 

“Chat, if you’re _waiting_ for the cavalry I don’t think they’re going to come,” Ladybug sighed, watching a line of police officers driven back by an advancing line of tangled thorny vines. “And we can’t exactly hang around here forever…oh my god now _I’m_ doing it.”

 

* * *

 

As it happened, the cavalry _was_ on her way but the cavalry’s wings took some getting used to.

 

The peacock feather cape was lined with dozens of metal rods that tensed when Alya flicked her arms just right so she could glide from rooftop to rooftop. When she flicked her arms just _wrong_ she found herself smashing into walls, lamp posts, and traffic lights as she tried to use the gusts from her fans to propel her through a city hellbent on kicking her ass.

 

Ladybug made it look so easy…then again Alya supposed Ladybug didn’t have to factor updraft and angry pigeons into her travel routine. The only reason most of Paris didn’t catch her approach was because they were currently dodging and ducking rogue seed pods the size of footballs.

 

As far as akuma temper tantrums went, this probably ranked among the worst the city had seen so far.

 

Paris was quickly becoming a rainforest and Chat Noir and Ladybug didn’t look to be in any position to stem the tide, dangling from their ankles above a massive pitcher plant ready to dissolve them with acid that looked like it was eating through the sidewalk.

 

“Hawkmoth couldn’t have thrown me a softball, could he?” Alya sighed, landing on a lamp-post across from the botanical gardens. From her perch, she could see the akuma tightening her vines around Ladybug and Chat Noir’s bodies whenever they tried to fight out of her grip. So long as the akuma had her attention on them, there was nothing Ladybug or Chat Noir could do to escape.

 

Alya realized this after several moments with a heavy sigh. “Alright…new guy gets to be bait then…”

 

Glancing around, she spotted a police barricade not too far away manned by Lieutenant Roger complete with spotlights and…

 

“That…could actually work,” Alya mused. “Just have to…do what peacocks do.”

 

Taking a deep breath, she dropped down behind the row of police.

 

“Pardon me,” Alya asked, ignoring their cries of alarm as she focused her attention on the Lieutenant. “Would you mind doing something for me?

 

* * *

 

“You know,” Chat winced, wriggling against the vines as the acid below them churned higher and higher. “This much stomach acid can _not_ be a good sign.”

 

“Pitcher plants don’t have _stomachs,_ ” Chlorokill remarked, making a lily grow large enough for her to sit in as a chair. “At least not like humans do though…though in your case the difference is hardly that relevant seeing as how you’ll be digested either way.”

 

“You sure you don’t want to like…not digest us?” Ladybug asked hopefully.

 

“Sorry, little insect; Hawkmoth’s orders,” Chlorokill cooed, running a vine along Ladybug’s face. “I would have _so_ liked to keep you around to eat aphids out of my garden-”

 

“Does she _know_ I’m not a real Ladybug?” Ladybug said out of the corner of her mouth.

 

“-but my patron needs your earrings,” Chlorokill sighed. “Terrible business, I know, but what can you do?”

 

“Not eat us?” Ladybug repeated.

 

“Okay…we’ve gone easy on you up to now, plant lady,” Chat Noir said, twisting around until he faced Chlorokill with a scowl. “But if you don’t let us go _right now_ you are going to be in _big trouble._ ”

 

“Too cute,” Chlorokill cooed, ruffling Chat’s hair. “But honestly, dear, there’s no one who can help you now. No one who can-”

 

Something feathery and silvery bounced off the back of the Akuma’s head, falling to the ground behind her. The fan tumbled down to the ground, flopping uselessly against the grass before floating back to the entrance of the park.

 

“…crap that was supposed to do more,” a voice mumbled into what sounded like a police loudspeaker. “Wait, shit is this on? Okay…fuck it we’ll do it live…I said _we’ll do it live!_ ”

 

A pair of police spotlight suddenly shone on the entrance to the park, illuminating a blue figure who snatched the returning fan out of the air with one hand while gripping a bullhorn with the other.

 

“ _Thank you,”_ the figure called to the police manning the spotlights, boots clacking on the cobblestone as her backlit silhouette approached the akuma. “ _No one appreciates a garden party like I do, darling, but no one likes a party that gets out of hand.”_

“…who’s that?” Chlorokill asked, turning to Ladybug and Chat Noir who just shrugged, before turning back, squinting in the spotlight. “Who’s there?”

 

 _“O~HO~HO~HO~HO!_ ” A throaty, hearty laugh came from the loudspeaker as the figure continued to advance on the akuma. “ _You didn’t think Ladybug and Chat Noir were Paris’ only defenders, did you?”_

“…aren’t they?” Chlorokill asked.

 

“Aren’t we?” Chat asked, turning to Ladybug who had suddenly devoted all her attention to the approaching figure, brow creased and lips pursed as though the approaching figure was a bigger threat than the akuma that held them. Chlorokill’s vine fingers hardened, launching from her hands towards the approaching shadow. The akuma’s fingers had barely grown back when a gust of wind from the fan in the figure’s hand sent the thorns flying into the dark of the park, her stride never slowing as she grew closer and closer to the akuma.

 

“No, really, who the _hell_ are you?” Chlorokill demanded as the figure stopped. She raised the bullhorn to the sky and a spotlight on the building opposite the garden shone down on her, illuminating the blue clad, feathered figure in all her shiny blue glory.

 

“You picked a _bad_ day to start sowing your wild oats,” Alya said, conspicuously grinding a flower under heel as she paced back and forth in front of the akuma.

 

“…is she a peacock?” Chlorokill asked Chat Noir.

                            

“Because a _new_ hero is roosting in Paris now,” Alya continued, flicking her fans and uprooting a row of saplings. The akuma turned away from the captive pair and Alya could only hope that her little show was distracting enough. “And she…uh…s-she will not tolerate weedy little weed lovers threatening her city!”

 

“I think _she_ is a pea _cock_ ,” Chlorokill mused as Ladybug began wiggling out of the vines.

 

“You have _crossed the line_ ,” Alya declared, holding her fan aloft in what she hoped was a cool looking pose. “And in the name of…uh…l-love and justice-”

 

“Why are you a pea _cock_?” Chlorokill asked suddenly.

 

“I will punish…wait, what?” Alya blinked, slouching a little. “Wait…what do you mean _why am I a peaco-”_

“You’re a girl, right?” Chlorokill said.

 

“I-I don’t see how that’s your business,” Alya huffed, hair flaring unconsciously behind her. “But yes, I am a-”

 

“Well then why aren’t you a peahen?” Chlorokill asked, attention on Alya and not the escaping heroes. “Pea _cocks_ are male.”

 

“…okay-”

 

“So why aren’t you a pea _hen_?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” Alya said. “Why are _you_ a barky green plant monster?”

 

“Evil butterfly did it,” Chlorokill shrugged. “Don’t change the subject.”

 

“I don’t know: why is this so important to you?” Alya sighed.

 

“Laws of secondary sexual characteristics don’t just change because magic is involved,” Chlorokill sniffed, crossing her arms.

 

“So what; a seahorse Miraculous is supposed to magically make anyone sans uterus capable of childbirth then?” Alya asked, hand on her hip.

 

“Now you’re confusing biological makeup for superficial indicators of sex,” Chlorokill scoffed, ignoring the fact that Chat Noir had managed to bite his way through the vines holding him.

 

“Well if it’s so superficial why do you care so much?!” Alya spat

 

“Because your costume is _wrong!_ ”

 

“Oh my god you are _such_ a _nerd_!” Alya groaned, unfurling her fans with a flick of her wrists. “And this is coming from someone who just quoted Sailor Moon as part of her threatening speech. Can we get back to the part where you get your ass kicked?”

 

“Truth be told, that’s the part I’ve been waiting for!”

 

Alya blinked and the akuma fell sideways, propelled by the force of a flying teenager in a black cat costume landing on her back.

 

“Hi,” Chat Noir said, flashing a toothy smile at Alya and holding his hand out. “Chat Noir; how’s it go- _oomph!_ ”

 

A thorny vine smacked Chat Noir in the back of the head as the akuma rose, flinging the cat off her back and sending him sprawling at Alya’s feet.

 

“…ing?” Chat wheezed.

 

“You okay?” Alya asked, reaching down to hoist the boy to his feet.

 

“Never better,” Chat whimpered, brushing himself off as a yo-yo smacked into the back of Chlorokill’s head and drew her attention to Ladybug zipping around the trees. “You uh…new in town?”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Alya said, snapping her fans open as Ladybug swung back around. “This wasn’t exactly how I wanted to introduce myself but-”

 

Alya raised her fan to block an incoming seed pod flung by an angry akuma.

 

“-you looked like you could use a wing,” Alya said, blinking. “Claw…talon? I-I’m still working out the bird puns, give me a break here.”

 

“It takes time,” Chat shrugged, shooting her a small wink. “You’ll get used to it eventu-”

 

“ _Chat, a little help here!”_ Ladybug called out from above them. Alya looked up to see Ladybug ensnared by Chlorokill, yo-yo surprisingly ineffective against their constantly thrashing vines. She raised her hand to try and wind a few of them up but a sudden thrash knocked the yo-yo from her hand, sending it tumbling down to the ground at Alya’s feet.

 

“Sorry; got to go,” Chat said, fingers crackling with black energy. “It’s not often I get to save the day myself, you know.”

 

Chat flipped forward, claw lashing out and striking the base of the vines snaking up out of the ground. Cataclysm slowly spread from the point of impact, withering the thick thorny vines until they shattered into a thousand dusty pieces that streaked towards the ground…along with a yoyo-less Ladybug.

 

“ _CHAT!”_

 

“What was that supposed to save?!” Alya shouted.

 

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII…did not think this through,” Chat said, rushing to catch Ladybug before she plummeted into the pitcher plant. “Hang on! I’m com- _oomph!”_

 

Chat Noir tripped, ankle snagged by another thorny vine as Chlorokill bore down on him.

 

“That was an _endangered_ species of vine you mangy alley cat!” Chlorokill screeched, bearing down on Chat Noir with all the blind rage a scorned botany major could muster.

 

“Yeah, well, plants are _stupid_ ,” Chat Noir grunted, beating off the assault of vines as Chlorokill tried to strangle him with her bare hands.

 

“Take that back!” Chlorokill hissed.

 

“Face it; no parent wants their kid to grow up to be a _botanist_!”

 

“You little _shit!_ ” Chlorokill screeched, finger-vines wrapping around Chat’s neck as he tried to fight her off.

 

“Oooh look at me I’m a botanist!” Chat squeaked as the plants wrapped around his throat. “I spent four years of my life studying _grass growing_!”

 

“STOP TALKING!”

 

“Chat Noir!” Alya cried, rushing to help Chat Noir only to be distracted by the sight of Ladybug dangling on the ledge of the pitcher plant, struggling to pull herself up.

 

“Don’t- _urgh-_ worry about me!” Chat Noir cried, fingers clawing at the vines around his neck. “G-Get Ladybug! Hurry!”

 

Alya turned, fans flicking out as adrenaline suddenly made things perfectly clear to her. If she didn’t help Chat Noir, he was going to be strangled by the akuma before Ladybug could help; if she didn’t help Ladybug, this was all going to be for naught anyway. Most people would have found this to be a paralyzing decision but when faced with two seemingly impossible choices, Alya somehow chose _both._

She took a running start at the akuma, leaping and landing with both feet on Chlorokill’s back. Crouching low, she kicked off hard which disoriented Chlorokill long enough for Chat to kick her off his stomach. Using the momentum, she spread her fans and swung her arms as hard as she could, taking off into the air with a mighty leap towards the dangling superheroine quickly losing purchase on the side of the plant.

 

Pitcher plants, even giant magical ones, were designed to trap any wayward insects that fell into them. And no matter how strong Ladybug was, she couldn’t keep herself out of the churning bile beneath her for too much longer. Already she scrambled to keep her fingers from slipping down the side of the plant, clawing her way back up and trying to stay out of the mouth of the plant for as long as she could but she was slipping. The ledge of the plant was getting further and further away and it would only be a matter of time before she found out if her suit could protect her against churning digestive aci-

 

“Incoming!”

 

A voice called from behind her and Ladybug turned just in time to see the floating feathered figure glide into the lip of the plant. She felt a soft weight press into her, an arm wrapping around her waist as the stranger’s other arm seemed to be flapping a fan as hard as she could.

 

“Comeonecomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!” Alya hissed, cape extending as she frantically tried to create as much updraft as possible. The acid churned beneath them, flicking up every now and then and making some parts of her suit unnaturally warm, but they rose nonetheless. They came away from the side of the plant, hovering in midair as Ladybug instinctively wrapped her arms around the stranger’s neck. Inch by inch they rose, flapping like a broken winged crane awkwardly over the rim of the pitcher plant. They tumbled nearly a story down to the grass below with less grace than peacocks (and some small elephants) usually exhibited, rolling over and over until Alya found herself nose to nose with a perplexed (and slightly sticky) Ladybug.

 

Alya blinked, trying not to breathe too hard on her personal idol as Ladybug’s brilliant blue eyes searched hers for answers. The silence between them hung for only a moment but to Alya, it was an eternity of silence that needed to be broken. This would be the first time her alter ego spoke to Ladybug; a moment that would be integral to their future relationship for years to come.

 

Alya had a way with words…she knew exactly what to say.

 

“I…like your spots,” Alya blurted out before she could stop herself. Ladybug blinked, frowning up at Alya as she froze in abject mortification.

 

 _...did I just tell Ladybug I **liked her spots???**_ Alya thought, suddenly wondering if the Peacock Miraculous had built in invisibility powers that she could activate

 

“…thank you?” Ladybug said as Alya’s face flushed darker than Ladybug’s suit. She wondered if it was too late to fly back up there and throw herself into the pitcher plant. “I’m sorry, who are-”

 

“LADYBUG!!”

 

Before Alya could contemplate ways to bury herself alive, Chat’s scream drew both of their attentions and Ladybug gently pushed Alya off her. Getting to her feet as Chat tore across the park, clutching Ladybug’s yoyo and a misshapen four-leaf clover pin as the akuma shrieked behind him.

 

“GOT THE PIN; DO THE THING!” Chat shrieked, not bothering to stop once he whipped both items at Ladybug. “RING BEEPING; GOT TO GO!”

 

Chat Noir stopped in the middle of his sprint, backtracking until he was back in front of Alya.

 

“Thanks for the assist,” Chat said, shooting Alya a wide, sparkly smile that was completely devoid of any of the suave sultriness Chat Noir fans typically attributed to him. “Hope to see you around again!”

 

A series of beeps filled the air and Chat Noir tore off into the city, leaving Alya blinking after him curiously as Ladybug crushed the akuma pin under he heel.

 

“…huh,” Alya said, scratching her head. Above her, Ladybug’s healing wave weeded the tangled botanical gardens, leaving a groggy botanist glancing around and wondering what happened. Just like that it was over.

 

“Yes!” Alya crowed, turning around to offer her closed fist to Ladybug. “…come on, give it to me.”

 

Ladybug looked between Alya’s fist and her face, laughing nervously as she tentatively reached out to shake her closed fist. “Haha…right…look-”

 

“Sorry about the landing,” Alya said, withdrawing her fist after a moment. “The wings are a little new; I’ll stick it next time for sure.”

 

“I…I’m sorry, _next time?”_ Ladybug said, taking a step back from Alya with an almost uneasy look on her face.

 

“You know what they say; if at first you don’t succeed, try again the next time a mind-controlled monster tries to take over Paris,” Alya shrugged. “I’m sure the more we work together the more our teamwork will-”

 

“Right right,” Ladybug said, cutting across Alya. “I…look, thank you for the rescue back there-”

 

“Anytime,” Alya said, examining her nails in an attempt to win back some cool points in Ladybug’s book. “Part of the hero thing, you know; rescuing people, saving the day-”

 

“But Chat Noir and I are…we’re not exactly looking for another partner right now,” Ladybug said, hand hovering over her yo-yo as Alya’s expression clouded.

 

“-assisting fair maidens in…excuse me?” Alya asked, suddenly feeling less like a hero and more like an unwanted nuisance as Ladybug backed away from her.

 

“Y-Yeah, we kinda have this all in the bag by now,” Ladybug said, unspooling her yo-yo and scratching the back of her neck. “So uh…thanks for the help…but next time we’ll handle it ourselves.”

 

“Wait, are you…you’re saying _no_ to more help?” Alya asked, fixing Ladybug with a hopeless look of confusion.

 

“Tell you what!” Ladybug said as a beeping noise sounded from her ears. “If we ever decide to hold tryouts for another partner, you’re more than welcome to apply!”

 

“But-” Before Alya could say anything else, Ladybug hitched her yo-yo onto the corner of a nearby building, zipping away into the darkening sky as swarms of reporters descended on the park, crossing the grass and shouting questions to Alya. On a normal evening, she would have been part of the crowd herself. Ladybug would have fielded her questions specially, singling her out among the crowd of reporters as her chosen news source.

 

But now…even as throngs of reporters turned their cameras on her, Alya felt profoundly alone.

 

* * *

Dear Ladyblog faithful, 

Thrilling news! Today, in a battle with a plant themed akuma (who ought to stick to botany instead of bringing new meaning to the term ‘urban landscaping’) Ladybug and Chat Noir were unexpectedly rescued-

 

Alya trailed off, tapping her fingers against the side of her keyboard for a moment before hitting the delete key.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were unexpectedly assisted by a new feathered friend! Sources on the scene saw a strange masked figure fall from the sky, challenging the akuma and holding its attention long enough for Ladybug to put a stop to her mayhem. 

 

And just who is this mysterious figure? Friends of the Ladyblog said this new hero is capable of flying-

 

“Gliding,” Pfaau sniffed, glancing over her shoulder as they cracked open a sunflower seed. “I mean it’s still more than Tikki is capable of conjuring but it’s not quite flying, is it? Especially your…oh how should I put this…less than graceful rendition of gliding?”

 

“Shoosh,” Alya said, tossing a bag of sunflower seeds over her shoulder onto the bed for Pfaau to root through. “Mama’s working.”

 

Friends of the Ladyblog say this new figure is capable of gliding through the air and dispatching foes with gusts of wind from her fans! Sources even claim that this new heroine saved Ladybug from being eaten by a malicious plant!

 

“If you want a moment alone to pleasure yourself, dear, you just needed to ask,” Pfaau snorted, leaning over her shoulder.

 

“Do you want me to get a bird cage?” Alya said, brushing Pfaau off. “Because I can get a birdcage.”

 

The Ladyblog managed to land an exclusive interview with the enigmatic new heroine after the day's battle. She said remarkably little but when asked her name, she merely responded “My name is

Alya didn’t know how long she stared at the flashing cursor on the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she considered her next words carefully. The day hadn’t gone as she expected with Ladybug all but refusing her help and Chat Noir being the only one mildly happy to see her. After escaping the reporters, Alya had sat on the corner of her bed, staring at the wall of Ladybug posters thoughtfully before sitting down to answer her readers’ incessant thirst for information. Part of her wondered if she had done something wrong; given offense accidentally by stealing their thunder. Alya expected the day to end with the three of them getting sweets and sharing secret identities; instead she was sitting alone in her room trying to figure out if she should even bother posting about herself…

 

Her eyes drifted to a much younger picture of herself, arms wrapped around an older man with salt-and-pepper hair.

 

“Chin up, dearie,” Pfaau sniffed, floating over to sit on Alya’s desk. “I shant have my chosen behaving like some kicked dog because Tikki’s idiot girl doesn’t know the value of good help when she sees it.”

 

“They don’t want my help,” Alya sighed.

 

“ _Ladybug_ doesn’t want your help,” Pfaau corrected. “Children don’t want to eat their vegetables but that doesn’t change what’s best for them.”

 

“But-”

 

“Besides, Plagg’s boy seems to be warming to you,” Pfaau pointed out, looking at a picture on Alya’s computer screen of Chat Noir smiling at her. “Ladybug will come around; maybe next time she’s dangling over acid and you’re not there to save her.”

 

“I wouldn’t just let her _die_ ,” Alya said.

 

“So we’re agreed then!” Pfaau said, reclining on Alya’s gel mouse pad. “You will continue to be my champion and hang what everyone else thinks.”

 

Alya opened her mouth, snapping it shut as she wondered if she had just been verbally judo’d by a sentient floating Beanie Baby. She looked back at the picture of her riding her father’s shoulders, remembering the day at the zoo where it had been taken just days before the Easter that changed her life forever. She remembered riding his shoulders, looking into the animal pens as he taught her the names of animals in English and Spanish. Elephant, l'éléphant, _elefante_. Panther, panthère, _pantera._ Zebra, zèbre, _cebra._

Peacock, paon-

Alya blinked and punched in eight letters that finished the Ladyblog for the night.

 

“My name is Pavo Real.” 

* * *

 

Across the city, unbeknownst to Alya, a certain fashion mogul leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee and staring at a picture of the feathery superheroine with an inscrutable expression.

 

"There you are..." Gabriel muttered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still hammering out the Peacock's powers but one of them is definitely a flawless ojou-sama laugh. 
> 
> The plot thickens like a steamy chowder left to simmer on the stove. Really happy with the response this has gotten so far so thanks for sticking around for this little freewrite. By now you must realize how much of my stuff relies on a beta. 
> 
> Next time we have class reactions, balcony visits (not of the Marichat variety), and late night sparring between heroes.

**Author's Note:**

> Behold the beginning of my Ot3AU
> 
> I need to make myself write without criticizing every word I write so I decided to play this little game. Since Satisfaction is my current ML baby, I'm going to tell this story as a freewriting exercise. My rules for myself are that once I punctuate a sentence, I can't go back and edit it at all so everything you see is pure and unfiltered. 
> 
> ...I apologize in advance. 
> 
> This story (and this universe) will focus on Alya/Marinette/Adrien in different capacities (including Alya/Marinette(Ladybug), Alya/Adrien(Chat Noir), and Marinette(Ladybug)/Adrien(Chat Noir). Even though this is freewriting, feedback (especially about poly relationships) is always welcomed.


End file.
